


Savour

by Mialienes



Category: Super Junior, Super Junior-M
Genre: Cannibalism, Gen, Horror
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-16
Updated: 2015-03-16
Packaged: 2018-03-18 03:56:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3555161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mialienes/pseuds/Mialienes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kyuhyun hears about a tiny restaurant, tucked away in a corner of the city. He becomes enamoured with the food and the chef, Zhou Mi. </p>
<p>Unfortunately for Kyuhyun, Zhou Mi seems to be enamoured with him as well.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>  <b>Warnings: some gore, violence, creepiness, dark themes.</b></p>
            </blockquote>





	Savour

Kyuhyun watches with rapt fascination as the chef deftly prepares his meal in front of him.

He's sitting in a tiny restaurant, one he would have missed if it hadn't been highly recommended by a colleague of his. It's out of the way and hidden down a narrow street, in a small building tucked in between two much taller ones - a place that looks like it's been forgotten by time. It's cozy inside, with only 8 seats at a long bar, behind which one person works. There doesn't seem to be any other staff - just the chef, who Kyuhyun assumes is also the owner. 

The chef is thin and tall, with a long face and elegant features, his expression serious as he devotes all his attention in preparing Kyuhyun's meal. There's no menu - when Kyuhyun walked in he'd been appraised with a tilt of the head and glittering eyes and then the man's serious face had broken into a small smile as he beckoned Kyuhyun to sit down. 

"How hungry are you?" Chef had asked as he placed a small cup in front of Kyuhyun, pouring him tea, steaming and fragrant. "Small, medium, big?" His voice was softer than expected from such a tall man. 

"Ummm," Kyuhyun had responded, slightly taken aback. "Medium?"

"Anything you don't eat?" was the next question.

Kyuhyun shook his head in a negative response, but ventured nervously, "I'm not that fond of octopus." 

Chef nodded, and Kyuhyun could see the process of thinking cross his face. "Okay." He reached behind him, lifting the lid off a steamer and plucking a heated towel from it using a pair of tongs. The towel was placed on a plate set in front of Kyuhyun. "Please. Be comfortable and enjoy." 

And Kyuhyun does, as he's provided with a meal spanning 12 small courses with matched alcohol. Every bite is exquisite and hours pass by in a snap.

At the end, after a small bowl of sorbet to lift his palate, Kyuhyun is presented with the bill. Kyuhyun looks at the figure and can't help the gasp that slips out.

"But," he says in protest. "This must be wrong." He'd spent the past couple of hours enjoying one of the best meals he's had in years, enjoying the light conversation that the Chef - Kyuhyun had learned that his name is Zhou Mi - had made as he presented course after course of delicious food, and the figure handwritten on the slip of paper in front of him is far, far too low. How can he possibly survive with such a small place and charge so little? 

Zhou Mi tilts his head in that appraising way of his. "Did you enjoy yourself?" he asks in his soft voice. 

"Yes, of course," is Kyuhyun's automatic response. 

"Then the figure is correct," Zhou Mi says with a small smile.

Kyuhyun shakes his head but pays, making sure to leave a decent tip. "I'll be back," he tells Zhou Mi, almost warningly.

"I hope so," Zhou Mi replies, his eyes glittering.

 

*

 

Kyuhyun doesn't tell anyone about Zhou Mi's restaurant, except for the colleague who'd recommended it. It's entirely selfish on his part. He doesn't want the place overrun - it's so small and there's something incredibly special about it. 

He's back a week later, alone again, but this time half the seats in the restaurant are already taken by others. 

Zhou Mi greets him, quietly welcoming, and the ritual is the same as the first time, although on this occasion he no longer has Zhou Mi's complete and undivided attention. Instead, Zhou Mi flits from customer to customer.

As Kyuhyun wipes his hands with the warm towel - today it's scented with a slight citrus aroma - Zhou Mi places a small chilled glass, about the size of a shot glass, in front of him, pouring in some liqueur from a pale pink bottle. 

"This is a sparkling sake," Zhou Mi tells him. "Good as an aperitif." And he watches as Kyuhyun sips it, the sake bright with fruit and a mild sweetness, the bubbles bursting on his palate. Zhou Mi smiles in satisfaction before moving on to another customer - a burly man sitting next to Kyuhyun who looks like a truckie with his beard and full tattoo sleeves, but who eats with the daintiness of a lady.

After a short wait Zhou Mi returns his attention to Kyuhyun, remarking, "You look a little tired today." His hands are busy, shaping rice into a nigiri shape before grating some fresh wasabi and spreading it on top with the tip of his finger. Zhou Mi removes a cling film covered piece of fish from the fridge behind him, effortlessly slicing off a small piece. He lifts it up and frowns a little, discarding it, before cutting off another slice that's more to his satisfaction and placing it on top of the rice. 

He presents it to Kyuhyun with a wink. "A touch of wasabi - to wake you up."

Kyuhyun eats it in one bite, the wasabi spreading through his mouth and up his nasal passages, but not so much that it overpowers the delicate flavour of the fish and the sweet vinegary rice.

"Long day at work,' Kyuhyun finally replies after he's finished chewing and swallowing. "It's nice to be here."

The meal continues - bite after glorious bite. Kyuhyun had told Zhou Mi that he was medium hungry again, but somehow Zhou Mi has judged that he's hungrier than Kyuhyun is willing to admit - he'd skipped lunch - and there's more food than last time. 

Everything is exquisite. There's thin slices of sashimi that taste so fresh that Kyuhyun can almost see the ocean behind his eyelids. A couple of small skewers of chicken, cooked over a small charcoal grill behind the counter, Kyuhyun watching eagerly as Zhou Mi bastes them with a soy mirin glaze, the fat hitting the coals and sending up the most mouthwatering scent despite the extractor fan above working furiously. 

Another piece of nigiri, topped with a slice of fish, seared with a couple of passes of a butane torch. 

A square of wobbling tofu, served chilled and topped with thin slivers of the youngest, most delicate ginger. It tastes like the essence of the freshest soybeans, and so soft it all but melts in Kyuhyun's mouth. 

More sushi - nigiri and perfect circles of maki, each piece prepared and served one at a time, presented to Kyuhyun still warm from Zhou Mi's hands. 

A portion of steamed daikon in a dashi broth, simultaneously pure and full bodied, highlighting the radish's natural sweetness. 

It's all amazing, and by the time Kyuhyun is finished - after a bowl of ice cream that Zhou Mi says he made that morning using raw milk so fresh it had been milked only an hour prior to purchase - Kyuhyun is the last patron left and it's nearing midnight.

"That was incredible," Kyuhyun tells Zhou Mi honestly, not even trying to hold in his gushing. It was even better than his first meal there.

Even though it's late, Kyuhyun doesn't want to leave. Zhou Mi's restaurant is like a haven and it's as if time is of no concern within these walls. All worries are left at the door and he's transported into an environment of purity and relaxation. And Zhou Mi doesn't seem eager to kick Kyuhyun out either. He washes his hands and removes his apron, shaking it out and folding it neatly from edge to edge into a small square before placing it to one side. 

Zhou Mi opens the gate that separates the kitchen and the customer area, coming out from behind the counter to where Kyuhyun is sitting. Zhou Mi produces a bottle of whiskey from somewhere, brandishing it in the air with his eyebrow raised in a question. 

At Kyuhyun's nod he pours two glasses - a generous finger in each - and takes a seat next to him. He holds his glass up, and they drink. Just like everything that Zhou Mi has given him that evening, the whiskey is astounding: deeply rich with strong aromas of smoke and peat. They talk for a while, making a fair dent in Zhou Mi's bottle of whiskey and by the time Kyuhyun checks the time it's past 2am. 

"Oh my god, I'm sorry," he says, his words slightly slurred from tiredness and the amount of alcohol he's drunk. "It's so late, I'm sure you want to get home." 

"Thank you for coming," Zhou Mi tells him, supporting Kyuhyun's elbow to help him to his feet before quickly ducking off, returning with Kyuhyun's coat that had been hung on a hook on the wall. Zhou Mi helps him into his coat and Kyuhyun almost leaves without paying.

"Oh! The bill!" he exclaims, already one foot outside the door. 

"Just return again," Zhou Mi tells him, but Kyuhyun protests, making his way back inside. He plucks money out of his wallet - a much larger amount than last time - placing the notes by the whiskey bottle. 

"Thank you for a lovely evening." 

After Kyuhyun leaves, he realises that for all the time he spent talking to Zhou Mi, he didn't manage to learn anything about the man. 

 

*

 

The next time Kyuhyun visits, he's a bit put out to find Zhou Mi engrossed with another customer. 

He's polite, of course, greeting Kyuhyun when he enters with a gentle smile, but then he's immediately absorbed with the other customer. She's petite and pretty, with curly hair that hangs in waves down her back. Kyuhyun chooses a chair several seats down, and tries to ignore the feeling as he sees Zhou Mi smile at her as she twirls a lock of her hair around a finger and flutters her lashes up at him. 

Kyuhyun had thought, after the other evening, that there had been a connection of some sort. He'd felt special. While he hadn't returned expecting anything, he finds that he's slightly disappointed that the woman is soaking up the attention that Kyuhyun had thought, obviously mistakenly, was just for him. 

The food is still perfect, but somehow on this occasion, it doesn't taste as sweet. 

Kyuhyun lingers a little after his meal, hoping that the woman will leave, but she looks like she'll be there for a while, laughing brightly and speaking to Zhou Mi in a hushed voice, conspiratorial and exclusive. 

Kyuhyun pays his bill, the figure still too low for the amount that he's consumed, and leaves.

He doesn't return for another month, resisting the urge, until one night when thoughts of Zhou Mi's tiny restaurant won't leave his mind. 

When he steps in he's gratified to find that he's the lone customer. Zhou Mi greets him as if no time at all has passed, as if he hadn't noticed the gap in between his visits. He pours him a drink and hands him a scented heated towel to wipe his hands. It's raining outside, and caught in Kyuhyun's hair are sparkling gems of raindrops, from when he closed his umbrella before he entered. Zhou Mi gives them a glance before handing him another towel, indicating that he should give his hair a quick wipe. 

"And how are you today?" Zhou Mi asks as Kyuhyun soaks up the comfort of the place. There's just something about the atmosphere in the restaurant that automatically makes Kyuhyun feel relaxed, like there's a sedative hanging in the air. 

"Medium hungry, I guess," Kyuhyun responds, thinking he's asking about his hunger level. 

Zhou Mi gives him an amused look, telling him, "I feel like you're not hungry for food, but hungry for adventure." 

It's odd, because as he says that, Kyuhyun realises that he's right. Kyuhyun has been working a lot. The colleague that had introduced him to Zhou Mi's place has disappeared - there's rumours that he's skipped town due to a gambling debt but no one seems to know the exact truth - and everyone in Kyuhyun's company has been working extra time to fill in. So tonight Kyuhyun hungers for excitement, just a touch, something to keep him going.

"Are you feeling brave?" Zhou Mi asks him. "Will you try some new things?" 

Kyuhyun considers this, wonders what Zhou Mi means by new, before he throws caution to the wind. "Yes," he declares bravely. "I trust you." 

Zhou Mi's eyes burn for a moment before he smiles in a way that flashes a dimple. "I'm glad to hear that." 

They talk while Zhou Mi cooks, and he seems to remember every detail of their late night chat, asking Kyuhyun about the progress of a large project that he's working on, whether he's booked that holiday he spoke about, even how his sister's pregnancy is coming along. He's constantly moving as he asks his questions, like a dance, every movement graceful and assured. It's wonderful to watch and Kyuhyun feels foolish that he had such a churlish reaction the last time he was here. 

Kyuhyun wonders what he has in store for him, watches as Zhou Mi pulls a container out of the fridge next to him. Whatever is in the container is vaguely pink-grey and not something Kyuhyun recognises from where he's sitting. Zhou Mi cuts it into slices, his knife seeming to meet no resistance. The slices are dusted in flour, then into a batter that Zhou Mi quickly whisks up, before being popped into a small deep fryer. 

A small bowl of dark coloured sauce is deposited in front of Kyuhyun, followed by the plate of the freshly fried item. It's coated in a light tempura batter, and Kyuhyun picks up a piece with his chopsticks, dips it in the sauce and takes a bite. 

It's… odd. Unlike anything he's ever eaten. After biting through the crunchy outer, the inside is a soft custard - very luscious and fatty - the richness offset by the piquancy and acid of the sauce. 

Zhou Mi's eyes are shining, watching intently for his reaction. "Do you like it?" 

To Kyuhyun's surprise, he does. "Yes," he says, popping another piece into his mouth. "It's amazing! What is this?" 

Zhou Mi gives him a small secretive smile but doesn't tell him, moving on to prepare the next dish. 

Just like previous occasions, Kyuhyun ends the night feeling full and content. There's a languidness in his mind, in his body, and he smiles sleepily at Zhou Mi as he says his thanks, interspersed with compliments. 

"A quick drink before you go?" Zhou Mi asks him, lifting up a bottle of cognac from underneath the counter. When Kyuhyun nods at him, he comes out from behind the counter with two glasses and the bottle tucked under his arm, taking the stool next Kyuhyun. 

They chat quietly as Zhou Mi pours them both a drink. Kyuhyun sips slowly in between asking Zhou Mi questions, intent on finding out more about the man. Despite this, he doesn't notice how deftly Zhou Mi steers the conversation away from himself and back to Kyuhyun. 

"I hope you don't think this is strange," Zhou Mi tells him after they've been sitting there for a while, and Kyuhyun finds him looking at his hand cupped around his glass, "But I just want to tell you that you have lovely hands."

"Oh. Thanks?" There's a heat in Kyuhyun's cheeks, that he tells himself is just due to the alcohol. Zhou Mi reaches over, a question in his eyes, and when Kyuhyun doesn't say no, he gently lifts the glass out of Kyuhyun's hand and sets it down. He grasps Kyuhyun's hand, stroking his fingers tenderly - almost lovingly. No one has ever looked at Kyuhyun in the way Zhou Mi is looking at him, has ever touched him like this, like he's the most fragile, delicate, alluring, beautiful thing that ever existed. 

It's simultaneously embarrassing and wonderful, and he doesn't even realise that he thought _thing_ rather than person. 

"Very lovely hands," Zhou Mi says admiringly, turning it over so the palm is facing up. "Lovely wrists." Zhou Mi's thumb falls automatically to Kyuhyun's pulsepoint and his eyes seem to flutter as he inhales. "Beautiful." 

 

*

 

Zhou Mi is ten the first time he sees a sushi master at work. He watches, rapt, as the chef skillfully slices the flesh from the bone. It's like an art - a ballet of movement - each cut succinct, efficient and _perfect_.

He knows then what he wants to do. 

Even at a young age, Zhou Mi is intelligent, astute and slightly obsessive. He has a way of concentrating completely on something, blinking up at his parents with his big eyes, intense and serious. He's a quiet child, preferring his own company over boisterous other children, but where he has no time for rowdy kids he's charming to adults. 

Too charming for his age, but the adults he tries it on mistakenly find it cute. 

Zhou Mi is 15 when he starts to admire the form of the human body and admits that he's not like other boys. Unlike his peers, he doesn't find excitement in the curves or the softness of someone's skin.

He's more interested in what's underneath. 

What intrigues him is the pinkness of flesh, the redness of blood, the way it seeps and drips. He wants to draw back the skin to see the connection of muscles, how they flex and contract. He wants to strip away the meat, see how clean and white bones are when they're freed. 

His parents teach him so much at this crucial stage in his life. They've never been more beautiful. 

When he's 17, he coaxes someone into taking him on as an apprentice. It's from annoyance and persistence more than anything else, as he shows up at his chosen teacher's restaurant every morning until he agrees to give Zhou Mi a chance. 

It takes 18 months of cooking and shaping rice before he's even allowed near a knife. 18 months of balling rice in his hands, every day, over and over and over, until the movement is ingrained in his memory. Until he can do it awake, asleep, half dead, until every twist of his hand is slow and purposeful. Hundreds of thousands of rice balls have been shaped by his hands.

Once he's mastered rice, he's allowed to pick up a knife. It takes over a year before he's allowed to cut flesh. He slices vegetables, over and over and over, until his master determines he's gained the skills to practice on something that once lived.

No longer a young child, Zhou Mi is still intelligent, astute, slightly obsessive. Now, he's also patient.

Six years pass until he decides he can learn no more from his master and Zhou Mi looks into opening his own restaurant. 

Zhou Mi purchases a small building in the corner of the city, sandwiched in between two ten storey buildings, with money he'd inherited from his parents. Because it's so small, it's very affordable, consisting of three storeys. 

One of the floors is a basement. As it's located under the main surface of the street, it's naturally temperate, and Zhou Mi fits it out to be a natural cool room. After insulation and soundproofing, he tiles the entire space - the floors and walls - doing the work himself, and finishes by wiring in intense lights and a walk in fridge and freezer for items that need colder temperatures. The basement ends up bright, white, and easily cleaned.

The top floor is Zhou Mi's living quarters. It's mostly just a place for him to shower and sleep, and he paints the entire floor white. The only decoration he bothers with is a shelf that holds his prized trophies, but apart from that, his home is a place of minimalism. 

The middle floor - the ground floor - becomes Zhou Mi's restaurant. The space consists of a long bar with only 8 seats, a single bathroom for patrons, and a small kitchen. Zhou Mi can prepare food in his kitchen and serve it immediately to his customers just by leaning over the counter. 

Zhou Mi is very, very proud of his place, something that he's pretty much constructed by himself. His restaurant is his canvas.

The day before Zhou Mi opens the doors, he gives his teacher a tour. His teacher seems nervous as he walks him down the stairs, and afterwards he doesn't have any feedback to give. For all the years he spent teaching Zhou Mi, he has no comments to make at all. 

But Zhou Mi isn't disappointed. He understands. 

Because one can't talk without a tongue. 

 

*

 

Zhou Mi serves it to his first customer - a curious individual, a businessman with a stiff collar, centre parting and a leather briefcase, who just happened across Zhou Mi opening up the first evening. 

The businessman loves it so much, he returns a few nights later and then often over the next few months. He becomes Zhou Mi's first official repeat customer. 

Until he loses his legs and can no longer walk. But Zhou Mi remembers him fondly, remembers the way he screamed as Zhou Mi's cleaver came down, just as he remembers everyone who's stepped foot in his restaurant, and even those who haven't. 

 

*

 

Zhou Mi drags the flat of his knife down the man's cheek. He's sobbing, twisting in his ropes, pleading and pleading. 

"Why are you doing this?" he begs.

Why? Because this is Zhou Mi's art. 

"Shhhh," Zhou Mi says soothingly. He places a soft kiss on his cheek, petting him gently. "It's okay. I'll treat you well, I promise. You'll taste better if you're calm." He tucks his nose into the crook of the man's neck and inhales. "Delicious." 

Zhou Mi leaves the man's side, walking over to a nearby table. He picks up his favourite knife, holds it up and examines the edge to make sure it's still sharp. It is. Zhou Mi takes good care of his utensils, just like he takes good care of everything in his life. 

"Beautiful," he murmurs to himself while the man sobs in the background. "So beautiful." 

 

*

 

Zhou Mi gently places a piece of sashimi on a plate. He treats it lovingly, almost reverently, and places it down in front of Kyuhyun carefully. 

"Please. Enjoy." He inclines his head and watches Kyuhyun, his eyes alight with something that could be joy. 

Kyuhyun examines the glistening piece of flesh in front of him. It's a soft pink, marbled with stripes of pure white, glistening and almost quivering on the plate. "What is it?" he queries. 

"Otoro," Zhou Mi states. "Is from the belly of a bluefin tuna." He gestures to himself, to his stomach, slicing his hand down in a deft movement. "This is only for my most _special_ customers - it's very highly valued and hard to get a hold of." There's a gleam in his eye. "Eat it in one mouthful," he instructs. "No soy sauce." 

Kyuhyun picks it up with his chopsticks and places it into his mouth. He chews - the fat in the flesh seems to melt in his mouth. "Oh!" he exclaims in delight. "This is the most delicious thing I've ever eaten." It's unlike anything he's ever tasted - it doesn't seem like tuna at all. There's a lingering oiliness to the slice, almost edging on sickly but not quite. It's fragrant and flavoursome and, quite frankly, addictive. 

"I'm so glad that you enjoyed it," Zhou Mi tells him, and the gleam in his eye has changed to satisfaction. "Perhaps one day I'll show you how I prepare it." 

"I would love that," Kyuhyun tells him honestly.

"So would I," Zhou Mi replies, still smiling but expression intense. "So would I."


End file.
